Halloween Hotrod.
43 minutes ago
I've not taken the time to look up the history of George Eastman and his Kodak Company this evening, instead I am going by memory. I recall reading once upon a time that George created the name "Kodak," though I can not recall how or why.
This spring we embark on a new adventure, one that none of us look forward to. It involves a childhood home, an elderly mom, a lot of big decisions, and the end of an era. There are sure to be tears involved, because not one of us can look at the house without seeing Dad everywhere, and none of us can let it go without feeling a stab of grief for Mom, who is no longer really able to make the tough choices or do the physical labor involved in the task.
This has been home for our entire lives and part of it will always be. The memories are there, held inside the walls of a tiny house on Mohawk Street, floating through the yards, both front and back, and spreading out into the streets where we played with our friends as children. For fifty-five years it has been "The Plotzker's House" and for nearly thirty years we've called it "Grandma and Grandpa's." I find it difficult to imagine it with any other name.
I listened to my mother's cousin speak at his father's memorial service last week. He talked of cleaning out his parent's house and it struck me how this is most often a job left to the children. There was a certain comfort in knowing we are not alone. We will sort through belongings with love and tenderness, make repairs with utmost respect, and grieve the loss. Part of me is ready to let go and another part is already trying to hold on.
J is for Jam.
Long ago and far away a baby boy was born on a US Air Force base in Tokyo, Japan. His four older sisters remember the country of his birth much better than he does, and yet only his birth certificate reads Tachikawa Air Force Base, Tokyo, Japan.
Though he played amongst the bamboo trees, the only memory is in old photographs. He was not quite three years old when the family returned to the shores of North America, taking along a love for the Japanese people, their food, and language. Wasn't it just two weeks ago my own daughter wandered the Tokyo airport and purchased a small package of seaweed to bring home to her father? And those funny fish and shrimp crackers?
Today the country of Japan is in great danger and terrible turmoil. Our hearts are heavy as we read the news and watch footage of utter destruction. We pray for the Japanese people, hurt for their loss, hope for their safety, and realize the world will never be the same.
| A friend loves at all times, Proverbs 17:17 a |